Once A Poet... Poem by Min Sia

I'm in my room
on a Friday night
Trying to write a poem
Anything that would make it right.
I thought of myself
the past and the present
hoping for river of ideas
something unique and different.
It's 11: 54pm
and my eyes are bleeding.
But I better be finished
by the next daylight morning.
But my head is spinning
my heart's revolving
a short story? a novel?
But before i finish, I'm probably be dead.
Is this what I really wanted?
Is this where I really belong?
I was once a poet,
but forever a dreamer...